Sunday, September 30, 2007

Gays in Iran

From the Washington Post today. Copied here in full:

I'm one of those people Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad says don't exist. I'm a 25-year-old Iranian, and I'm gay.

I live in Tehran with my parents and younger brother and am studying to be a computer software engineer. I've known that I was different from my brother and other boys for as long as I can remember.

I was born in 1982, two years after the start of the Iran-Iraq War, and when I was growing up, most boys loved to play with toy guns, pretending to be soldiers in the war. I liked painting, and playing with dolls. My brother preferred to play with the other boys, so most of the time I was lonely.

I was 16 when I first realized that I was sexually attracted to some of the boys in my high school classes. I had no idea what I could do with that feeling. All I knew about homosexuals were the jokes and negative stories that people told about them. I thought a homosexual was someone who sexually abused children -- until I saw the word "homosexual" for the first time in an English encyclopedia, and found a definition of myself.

After that, I started searching the Internet for information about homosexuality. Eventually I came across two Iranian Web sites where I could communicate with other gays. I was 17. At first, I didn't want to give anyone my e-mail address because I was afraid that I could be abused or that my parents might find out, or that people on the site could be government spies. But I finally decided to exchange e-mails with one person, and after some correspondence, we spoke on the phone. I'll never forget the first time I heard the voice of another gay man. We arranged to meet at the home of a friend of his, and the three of us talked for hours. I felt so comfortable with them. The next day I learned that the friend was interested in me. His name was Omid, and we became boyfriends.

I also became interested in the gay social movement that started in 2000. Around that time, Iranian society became more open under President Mohammad Khatami's reformist government. The Internet became common, and everybody started talking about issues they couldn't even have thought about before.

Until then, the gay world had been underground and secret. Under the Islamic Republic, gays could face the death penalty; they could also lose their jobs and family support. Meetings and parties took place only in the most trusted private homes. Heterosexuals were almost never seen at these gatherings. Even fellow gays were only slowly accepted. It could take years for a homosexual to become known and trusted. Most older gays were married and even had children, and their family and friends had no idea of their sexuality.

There was a handful of gathering places for outcast homosexuals in Tehran, people who couldn't hide their sexuality and had lost their jobs, or people whose families had disowned them, and who had turned to selling sex for money. Those places were always being attacked by the paramilitaries.

My generation was the first to start the coming-out process. I decided to come out when I was 20. I thought that if I just talked to my parents about it, they would accept my reasoning. I was totally wrong. Their reaction was horrible. They started to restrict me -- I couldn't use the phone or invite any of my friends over, and they cut back on financial support. Part of their reaction was religious; part was their concern that I couldn't survive as a homosexual in Iran. They were also ashamed to tell the rest of our family and wanted to see me married to a woman.

We argued constantly; they insisted that I wasn't gay, that I only thought I was. It took me years to calm them down, but over time, they lost any hope of changing me, and they started to change themselves. Now they accept that I'm gay, but they're not happy about it.

Meanwhile, the gay community has worked to educate people via Web sites and dialogue with our friends and families. But we've found that the most effective way of changing people's minds is coming out. When people see us as reasonable humans, their negative views of homosexuality are shattered. I can honestly say there's been a change in the way Iranians view us now. Gay life in Iran isn't as underground as it used to be. We have gay parties with heterosexual guests -- and even our parents! We have places where we can congregate -- in coffee shops, special park areas and even certain offices. Many more homosexuals are willing to come out these days. Activists estimate that .5 percent of the Iranian population is homosexual, bisexual or transsexual.

But we weren't surprised by Ahmadinejad's comments about gays at Columbia University. What else could he say? We stone homosexuals in Iran because that's what God wants? It was a joke, but he gave the only answer he could.

I wish our president could learn to respect gays instead of denying us. But I'm not holding my breath. In the meantime, my only response to his remarks is this: Whatever he says, Ahmadinejad can't change the fact that we exist.

Amir is an activist in Tehran whose name is being withheld for his safety.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

This isn't about marriage

By this, I mean this post. Surely, at this point, you are all familiar with my position on gay marriage (indifferent) as opposed to civil unions (support).* However, I find this video encouraging:



Why do I find it encouraging? Not because I care that much about marriage, but because Mayor Sanders is a Republican. Another Republican who is more amenable to gay rights is someone everyone loves to compare to Emperor Palpatine, the Vice President. What do these two men have in common? Gay daughters.

These kinds of things show that while it may easy for some people to think of gays and lesbians as "the others," proximity and experience causes second thoughts. This isn't the case of "we're queer, we're here, get used to it" being shouted from outside their homes. Rather, the proximity comes from inside the home, the office, the country club. It's not a question of numbers or visibility, per se. The experience comes from the happy times they spend with people before realizing they are gay. It's about people learning that gays and lesbians are their sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, parents, friends, neighbors, colleagues, etc.

It's quite difficult to be gay and then get close to someone who is a homophobe. Instead it seems to be more effective to be close first and then come out as gay. Sure there are still cases of "no son of mine," and I personally dread coming out to my old-guard Republican family, but seeing things like Mayor Sanders have a change of heart because he realized he loves his daughter more than the party line gives me great hope.

On a grander scale that's why I still refuse to leave the Republican Party. If I leave and become an elephant hunter, it's like my shouting gay pride slogans right outside their home. Republicans won't change their minds from angry outside opposition, instead they will get defensive and even more steadfast in their homophobia. I honestly think that well within my lifetime we are going to see the Republican fear of gays and lesbians go the way of opposition to fear of interracial marriage. But that it's only going to happen through relationship and bridge building; it's positive experience with gays and lesbians that will make the difference.

P.S. This isn't the post I can't remember. I fear that one may have evaporated forever.

(H/T: Richard J. Rosendall at Independent Gay Forum)

* According to Towleroad, some New Jersey same-sex couples are reporting that civil unions as opposed to marriage are not enough. An excerpt:
Craig Ross, of Somerset, said his employer refused to give health coverage to his partner, Richard Cash, after the two formed a civil union in April. They were one of several couples who described how business have cited federal laws that refer to 'marriage' or 'spouses' in order to deny health coverage to gay and lesbian employees who have tried to obtain benefits for their partners under New Jersey's civil union law. "They're looking at it as a ceremony, not even a relationship or a legal status," Ross said. "It's just words."
This seems like a) poor drafting of the New Jersey law or b) poor lawyering by the businesses. I don't have a copy (and am too lazy to find one) of the New Jersey law, so I cannot say for sure. Simply creating a ceremony recognized by the state called a civil union but does not afford that union equal legal status with a marriage, is as Craig Ross argues, "just words."

If, however, it does afford civil unions the same legal status as a marriage, then I am not sure how citing Federal statutes that refer to "marriage" and "spouse" will help these businesses. State law may (usually) afford more rights to its citizens than does federal law. I doubt that any judge is going to accept the argument "regardless of what the state of New Jersey says about health coverage by companies doing business in New Jersey, since Federal law requires no more than to recognize opposite sex spouses, our business must only meet that standard."

Before you worry about the cost of litigating the issue, let me assure you that this would be ripe for a non-profit gay law group to do pro-bono.

Another, whinier excerpt:
Tom Walton, of East Brunswick, said the difference in name — civil unions versus marriage — sends a message that gay couples are inferior. "Having to explain it automatically devalues it," Walton said. "Even if it gives us the same rights marriage, it doesn't give us the respect."
The government can't make people respect you (and whining like this won't help either). If people don't respect same-sex unions, they probably won't respect them if you call them marriages either. The minute a male talks about his "husband" instead of his "wife," people are going to hear "partner." Whether they respect the coupling has nothing to do with what it's called.

memory

Yesterday I was driving and had a great idea for a post. I recall thinking it was both poignant and clever. Now for the life of me I can remember what the hell it was about.

I am annoyed.

Friday, September 28, 2007

Burma

Like Andrew Sullivan I have decided to longer recognize the name change of Burma brought about by it's violent and authoritarian dictators.

Things are getting tragic over there:
Shots were fired to clear crowds defying a brutal crackdown in Myanmar Friday as authorities reportedly cut Internet connections and graphic new video footage showed troops using deadly force.
***
A day earlier, troops with automatic rifles fired into crowds of anti-government demonstrators, reportedly killing at least nine people in the bloodiest day in more than a month of protests demanding an end to military rule.

By shutting down the Internet, the dictators are trying to prevent images of the bloody struggle from escaping the country.

Tough as it is over there, let me make clear that I am not advocating a Wilsonian Crusade to free the Burmese people. Nonetheless, things like this are both hard to watch and perversely encouraging. The reasons it is hard to watch are obvious, but I am glad to see a people standing up to its oppressive government. I wish the people success.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

The Leviticus Strawman

Many are quite fond of the following clip:



I am not. I see it as a strawman argument that if anything only weakens the position of homosexuals who still consider themselves Christians (like me).

Humorous yes. Persuasive, no. The big problem is that the whole argument relies on the Old Testament.

Even the Fundies recognize that the Old Covenant was broken, and Jesus created a new one. That's why Paul goes to such great lengths to show that Gentiles may be Christians and that many of the old laws are just not important (in particular I am thinking of a time when Paul argued that it's okay for Christians to eat meat that had been sacrificed). The big problem for homosexuality in the eyes of the Fundies is that while Paul argued that many of the old laws about works were unimportant, he still lumped homosexuality as one of those things that is still bad.

That's why any defense of Christian homosexuality must be functional as opposed to formalist, i.e. consider the themes of Christ's message, such as love and the way that religious legalism ruins faith. The problem is that for the Fundies, that just doesn't cut it. In The Conservative Soul, Andrew Sullivan argues that one appeal of fundamentalism is that it is that it is easy to apply: the Bible says that this is bad, so it always is, and we don't have to think any more about it. That means that functional arguments aren't enough. It might be if the New Testament were silent on the issue, but it is not. Case closed: this satisfies prong one of Chevron. (I can't believe I just made an administrative law joke)

The best that homosexuals can do with the Fundies right now is a "love the sinner, hate the sin" + "let he who is without sin cast the first stone" kind of relationship.

Fun times

I still email occasionally with one of my old econ professors. He was a Republican Academic, an even rarer species than the gay Republican. He sent me this cute little thing. You may have to click on it to read it.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Myanmar & China

The military dictators of Myanmar imposed a strict curfew after Buddhist monks staged pro-democracy protests. I hope the monks defy the curfew and restrictions on assembly, because that would put the government in an awkward position:
If monks who are leading the protests are mistreated, that could outrage the predominantly Buddhist country, where clerics are revered. But if the junta backs down, it risks appearing weak and emboldening protesters, which could escalate the tension.
Although, that is not to say that the monks have the upper hand. Generally speaking, pacifists don't fare to well in armed confrontations and the Burmese government has dealt with this before:
When faced with a similar crisis in 1988, the [Burmese] government harshly put down a student-led democracy uprising. Security forces fired into crowds of peaceful demonstrators and killed thousands, traumatizing the nation.
If the people of Myanmar are lucky, this little skirmish my lead to the beginnings of freedom.

What is interesting about this story has been China's reaction to the protests:

China has quietly shifted gears, the diplomats said, jettisoning its noninterventionist line for behind-the-scenes diplomacy. A senior Chinese official asked junta envoys this month to reconcile with opposition democratic forces. And China arranged a low-key meeting in Beijing between Myanmar and State Department envoys to discuss the release of the leading opposition figure.

The government that committed the Tiananmen Square atrocity is now quietly telling the Burmese government to cool its jets. Why? After all, almost two decades after their own massacre of pro-democracy protesters China is still an oppressive authoritarian state. The cynic in me wonders if China just wants to look good for next summer.

Regardless, the Burmese monks are in my thoughts and prayers and I hope they have even mild success.